


Weary is the Head that Lies the Crown

by ElknCatus



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Backstory, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Realization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23173570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElknCatus/pseuds/ElknCatus
Summary: “I’m tired of these scheming idiots I’m forced to work with. All they do is treat me like a god or a child,” he huffed, before falling back onto the wall, “Fuck, this is the worst situation possible. They’ll talk about removing me. I know they will.”Russ felt his heart start to beat again. He knew he had just acted like a fool when his reputation was already on the line. His knuckles were white as he gripped his arm, surely leaving red lines on his skin.--Russ comes to a few realizations
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Weary is the Head that Lies the Crown

The world seemed to be a series of walls closing in. Russ held back a sigh; he hated the underground basements. Every building he had been in this week had insisted on having them. The two head officials of the branch, a board member and the head scientists, insisted on talking his ear off. The world couldn't get more claustrophobic. Russ's attention fell on the two men, each speaking far too loudly for anyone not to hear. It took far too much willpower not to grimace whenever they opened their mouths.  
  
The board member was Jacob Becker. He was an ugly stout fellow, the tryhard who had squirmed his way into the company. The way his back curved unnaturally and how his jacket half a size too small, all composed a very unappealing figure. His face did it's best to drag it back into a frown, but the smile stayed plastered on, his face gleaming with an uncomfortable sweat. His voice was an octave too high and forced. He looked like his collar was squeezing whatever expletive he usually used in the sentence  
  
"Mr. Taylor, have you been paying attention to the board members recently?" Becker's eyes twitched unpleasantly, his little dips in his tone unsettling, "Many have been saying that they don't like where the company has been going. Some of our branches, including our scientists, have been seen as unused."  
  
"Becker, I have. Our plans have been in the works for months. I assure you, and this department is in them," dread pooled in his stomach, anger quickly following it. Already insulting me to my face, and we aren't even 15 minutes into this trip. I don’t know if I’ll make it.  
  
"Ah, of course. I assure you Dr. Crowder has great ideas for many new plans, if only we got the funding promised to us," he said, his voice holding the slightest sign of malice. _All he does is bitch about how our intel departments get more attention_.  
  
"Yes, I do have ideas for a new set of weapons, for our more covert missions and for the more, erm, unsavory base we have," Crowder barked, his nasally voice beating on Russ’s head. His mind flicked back to Crowder’s file. Dr. Jeffrey Crowder, a disgraced stereotypical mad scientist with the appearance to boot. This man was rigid as a door frame. (Seriously he looked like he couldn’t bend his back). His face was unnaturally youthful, turned into a smile with far too many teeth. His skin was sallow and grotesquely pale. His dark greasy hair was long and slicked back into about the worst haircut he had ever seen. His bleached lab coat hung off of him like a sheet, stagnant as he hovered through the halls. Crowder looked like he had crawled from a morgue to get here.  
  
_I hardly call that something to brag about._ Russ wanted to scoff at them, clamoring for another dollar like an orphan from a Charles Dickens novel. The air felt stale and unmoving, even though scientists and lab assistants ran down the halls past him. _I just need to finish this meeting. Monte Carlo is so close._ He snapped back to attention, quickly recovering from his meandering thoughts.  
  
"The money is just not in our plans," Taylor paused, plotting his words carefully, "but, if this weapon proves useful, I could scrounge up some extra funds." The two perked up immediately, looking at each other hopefully. Taylor's mouth ghosted a scowl when he was sure either couldn't see.  
  
Crowder started to drone on again, speaking about his new projects. Some new weapons, better body armor, top of the line spy drones; the standard fair. He blinked, watching the scientists at work. Russ’s eyebrows creased, his mind turning quickly. If the basements weren’t so bad, he’d maybe spend some time watching them work. _If only Crowder wasn’t hounding me for money._  
  
"Where is Hades being held?" Russ managed to ask, turning his attention back to a still gibbering Crowder, "It's being sold in two weeks, it must be prepared." He prompted.   
  
"It's in the bottom level, one floor down from here," Becker explained, "we can go there now, even though I thought you were enjoying the tour." He offered, motioning to the elevator down the hall. Russ squinted. _That was needlessly passive-aggressive. Does he even realize how angry he sounds?_  
  
"I was, I was, but I am a very busy person you see," Russ explained, his voice piquing with interest. Trudging down the rest of the hallway to the silver elevator was a chore. The white walls made the stainless steel look no better, a material he saw as quite tacky in most circumstances.  
  
“Ah,” Becker replied, his face screwed up in a judgemental glare which had seemed to escape his eye. Russ fell silent, the pointed look getting returned.  
  
They filed in, the air filling up with the smell of sweat and hair wax. Russ did his best not to hack. He watched Crowder push the “DOWN” button, the dread forcing its way into the back of his throat.  
  
Russ stepped out, forcing himself to smile and look friendly. Becker was begging for an argument, and he wasn’t going to give it to him. He shivered. The basement felt too sterile and cold; the sounds of feet gone from the upper levels. The chatter of coworkers talking and working had become a distant memory, the silence closed in on Russ. Becker let Crowder lead, and Russ fell in line.  
  
The hallways were long. Russ’s feet tapped impatiently every time they stopped for a large cart to roll by carrying something too big for mange. The way their eyes fell when he walked, caused his mouth to grow dry. Taylor sighed, finally stepping into the room where Hades was.  
  
He bent down, inspecting the green vial behind the plated glass. His breath fogged up the screens, his nose wrinkling in discontent.  
  
"What are the capabilities of this?" He asked, standing back up to look at the two. Becker’s eyes moved to Crowder, and he jumped from his idle position.  
  
"It's been commissioned for its ability to subdue large groups of people without harming the environment," Crowder explained, his white lab coat trailing behind him as he walked towards it, "It's quite useful in biological warfare." He added, looking quite smug.  
  
"Ah, I see," Russ said, a spark of fear curling it’s way into his stomach, "It'll need to stay here for the time being. The less the public knows, the better. Has the patent been registered?"  
  
"Yes. It has," Becker spoke softly. The room fell quiet. Becker’s mouth was open just slightly with the weight of words, "Mr. Taylor, if I may so boldly speak, what is your view on the whole matter? Of public opinion?"  
  
"I'm not pleased but, it is just part of our line of work," Russ waved his hand, his eyes keeping contact with his board member, "and, we are not a public company, so it should not be our main concern." Becker’s eyebrow went high, bemused at best with the answer. Russ saw Crowder's lip turn up, a demented display of amusement. His stomach rolled, watching both give a small look at each other. _The hell I ever give them something to jab about again. Vultures, the whole lot._  
  
"If I may speak so candidly, but our ability to get contracts has been lacking for some time." Crowder shot back, his eyes looking like slits. Taylor bit his tongue, watching Crowder smile as he waited for an answer.  
  
“Our ability to get contracts hasn’t been lacking,” Russ insisted. His fingers dug into his palms, waiting for Crowder's answer.  
  
“Our ability to get contracts with criminals, you mean,” Crowder jumped in, before adding with an air of holier-than-thou, “which makes our talents go understated when we run around strictly with your old M16 friends.” Russ’s eyes widened, breathing in sharply. Anger filled his chest, his face drawn into a scowl.  
  
"Crowder, you have no other ability than to create the science that'll destroy thousands, and you criticize me about who we do business with?" Russ finally snapped, his head turning around suddenly, "But now, you act like reputation is what matters to you. It obviously didn't then, when you took this job as a last resort, so what changed?" He nearly yelled before squashing his anger back down. _Great job, they'll talk about this for weeks. 'Good ole Russ, blowing up at a respected scientist who just was trying to voice his opinions.'_  
  
"Mr. Taylor, this is highly inappropriate," Crowder snorted, being abruptly stopped by Becker. Taylor glared at Crowder, his face smug as he spoke.  
  
"I think we've all seen enough. Russ is obviously not equipped to handle this sort of challenge. You're obviously thick enough to not think of us all as equals," Becker said, feigning concern, "Thank you, Dr. Crowder, but your skills aren't needed at the moment. Good work on Hades X1."  
  
Crowder shuffled out, looking hardly bothered. Becker looked at him with an angry stare, a smirk on his face.  
  
"Do we want to talk-" He tried to start before Russ threw up his hands, effectively cutting him off. Becker’s nose scrunched up, frustration seeping off of him,  
  
“Unless you want to talk about why you gang up on me whenever I speak, then I would shut up,” Russ snapped, crossing his arms.  
  
“Fine.” Becker waved his hand dismissively.  
  
"I'm going home. We can talk about this when I get back from Monte Carlo. I've had this week planned for months." Taylor snarled. He stomped out, leaving the room quiet.  
  
Russ pushed his legs to walk faster, swiping the badge angrily. He wanted to leave, get out of here, and get home. _This company that I started is out to get me. HA! Look at that, that’s just fantastic._ He pushed his way into an elevator, smashing the LOBBY button with his thumb.  
  
“I’m tired of these scheming idiots I’m forced to work with. All they do is treat me like a god or a child,” he huffed, before falling back onto the wall, “Fuck, this is the worst situation possible. They’ll talk about removing me. I know they will.”  
  
Russ felt his heart start to beat again. He knew he had just acted like a fool when his reputation was already on the line. His knuckles were white as he gripped his arm, surely leaving red lines on his skin.  
  
“I’m calm. I’m fine, this is fine,” he muttered. What do I usually say? I can’t calm down. He grabbed his face, rubbing his temples. Taylor gritted his teeth, standing up and straightening his jacket.  
  
The doors rolled open. The twisting in his stomach nearly brought him to his knees. He whispered a silent prayer and put on a pleased look on his face. This was a game he could play.

**Author's Note:**

> I like this season, in a sense? It's much darker, which I am sort of appreciating. I also like Russ as a character, he's a lot less "Perfect Boy Scout" than the rest of the cast which is a breath of fresh air. I just wanted to do a character study of the trope of "Arms Dealer that Turns Good" so I chose Russ.


End file.
